Beautiful Secrets
by moriartyswife
Summary: Working at a drug rehabilitation center, I had seen my fair share of addicts come through the door. I greeted them with a smile at the front desk, but I was never the one to really help them. That is, until the day Coby Camlin walked through the front door. My world has been flipped upside down. Dr. Marcos thinks that I can be his guiding light. Myself? I have my doubts.


I love my job. Working at a drug addiction center for teenagers and young adults was so rewarding. Just being around these boys and girls fueled my desire to work. Today was a slower day. Normally, I'd be constantly busy, but I found myself at the end of my rounds with an hour to spare. I set my clipboard on the front desk, noticing a boy hovering outside.

He had to be around my age, tall with beautiful red hair. I watched him shift on his feet and finally jerk the door open. He scratched his arm, telling me he had a drug addiction. With no one else being in the lobby, he frowned and walked toward me. "I keep telling myself I'm going to quit."

I smiled softly. "Well, you're in the right place."

He stopped scratching his arm and stared at me. I tried to see myself through his eyes. Short, only five foot, shoulder length black hair, and bright green eyes. One small scar peeking out from behind my bangs that swept to the right of my face. His eyes fell down to the rest of my body. My lacey tank top with sleeves that fell off my shoulders covered my d-cup breasts completely and my pink high-waisted skirt fell mid-thigh. All that being paired with white flats, I probably looked very out of place.

"What's the deal? How I do sign up or whatever," he grumbled and rolled his eyes.

"Right! Sorry!" I grabbed the form he needed. "Just fill this out for me, please."

He took the clipboard from me and the pen, scanning it quickly. Chewing on the end of the pen, he asked, "What's all this nonsense at the bottom?"

"That's a list of all the options we offer. Usually, new clients will pick a few to try out before committing to whatever method they prefer. There's a group session going on with Dr. Marcos if you'd like to try it," I explained while watching him fill out the top portion.

"Sure, whatever," he replied, scribbling his signature at the bottom.

I smiled as he handed me the clipboard back. "Coby… I like your name. I'm Lucy." I started to type up a file for him and make a key card.

"Yeah, that's what your name tag says," he replied, leaning against the counter. He blatantly checked me out again.

I found myself blushing, embarrassed. "That's right. I forget that I wear it most of the time." I handed him the key card. "This gets you everywhere you need to go." I waved for him to follow me and used my own key card to get through the big main doors.

Coby walked behind me with his hands stuffed into his pockets and his eyes watching me walk. I tried to ignore it. I was used to it since I started working here. "You have a lot of floors," Coby commented on the elevator.

"The first two floors are the doctor's offices for private sessions. The third is for overnight stays. Fourth for group sessions and the top two floors, five and six, are for the check-ins. Mostly underage teenagers who have been checked in by their parents," I answered as the elevator stopped.

"You're crazy to work here. Around loser addicts," he said as we walked down the hallway.

I stopped outside a door. "You're wrong, you know. Everyone needs help at some point. I feel lucky to be around these amazing doctors and I hope one day that I can be that person for someone who needs it." I knocked on the door and pushed the handle down. The small room had several couches facing each other. Dr. Marcos stopped mid-sentence and stood up. "This is Coby."

"Hello, Coby. Welcome to our group," Dr. Marcos shook his hand. Coby reluctantly sank down into one of the empty seats.

I returned down to the main floor to see that we'd picked up a little. A few new clients and one relapse. It took half an hour to get them all settled and the lobby to become quiet again. I straightened up the magazines on the coffee table to keep busy. The main door swung open, hitting the wall with so much force that one of the picture frames fell to the floor and shattered the glass. Startling me, I jumped.

Coby stalked toward the door with an angry look.

"Coby, wait!" I almost tripped over the coffee table trying to beat him to the door. Grabbing his arm, I said, "Please don't go. Just wait."

"Fuck off!" Coby snapped and shoved me back harder than he intended to. The look on his face when I hit the floor told me so.

"Mr. Camlin, please calm down," Dr. Marcos said as he helped me up. Something must have gone wrong in the group session. Leaving was a mistake. He needed the help we had to offer.

The anger returned. "What the hell do you know? Nothin'! Stay out of my fuckin' personal life!" He shouted. "This was a stupid idea. I can quit on my own."

"No, please!" I grabbed his hand this time in both of mine. He stopped mid-stride and looked over at me. "It's not the same. Believe me. I've seen it over and over. You need someone!"

"That's bullshit," Coby replied but didn't pull his hand away. That gave me hope that he knew I was right. "I'm not going back to that."

"There's private sessions." I offered.

"How about this, Mr. Camlin. You come every day for two hours, two days a week you'll meet with me. The other five, you meet with Miss Jennings." Dr. Marcos said, shocking us both.

"I'm not a doctor," I said, shaking my head. There was no way I could do that!

"But you have first-hand experience with an addict and you want him to stay don't you?"

"Well, yes, but—"

"Deal," Coby said. He pulled his hand free. "As long as it's not with those other freaks."

"Well, tomorrow when you come by, I'll let you know what two days will be private sessions with me. Good evening," Dr. Marcos said and left us standing there. The group session still had another half hour.

"See you tomorrow, I guess," Coby said with a sigh. He pushed the door open while taking his car keys from his pocket.

I stood there, watching him walk to his car and then drive away with utter shock on my face. Did he accept the deal? Was I ready for something like this? I'd worked here for three years. Now I really get to help someone… I cannot screw this up. His life could be at stake. Overdoses happen all the time, and if he relapsed, he might take too much on accident. I can't mess up.


End file.
